Established in Cambridge in 1983, Platform was initially a radical theatre group that united art and politics to effect real change. We moved to London in 1986 and made London the focal point of our work.
Our Just Fact Project works in Tower Hamlets with residents, community campaigners, organisers and activists to build visions and policy solutions. We work in collaboration with local organisers and residents to vision, build and trial food systems that will lower overall environmental impact and tackle the inequities in the food system to help those in […]
Platform’s Just Transition North Sea project works directly with oil workers and their trade unions to develop, communicate, and win a worker-led energy transition vision.
Three ghost ships of the energy system, the spirits of the Economic War. All three of these vessels broke out of the fog that normally swathes the constant trade in oil and gas.
Standing in the front benches of the Opposition in the House of Commons, Rachel Reeves, Shadow Chancellor of the Exchequer, declared “Citizens Advice have said they have seen a record number of people in January … Only today Shell announced that their profits had quadrupled to 20 billion dollars. They described the results as momentous.
A sudden burst of clapping from a couple at the back of the cafĂ© and a ripple of laughter through the audience. This is the first response of the evening and the humour is ironic. It is in response to comments from the panel about the challenge of getting to Dumfries by train. Later the […]
Platform’s Just Transition North Sea project works directly with oil workers and their trade unions to develop, communicate, and win a worker-led energy transition vision.
Julie and I talked long. And we talked of death. We talked of the passing of fathers, and husbands, and friends. An idea grew between us through that conversation in her flat. Later we shared it with those sitting in The Cornucopia Room, gathered to watch a screening of The Oil Machine. In the exchange […]
The Stagecoach bus judders and swerves as it takes the bend past Braehead and Davidston, past the fields of stubble and grazing sheep. The driver knows these empty roads on The Black Isle intimately and is eager to reach the journey’s end. Suddenly, over the crest of the hill, Cromarty Firth appears in the sharp […]
